Chapter 9
"Surround him," Aria roared as she and her unwilling band of worgen approached the winged man. "Do not let him escape or your lives will be forfeit."
Like the black furry pincer of a giant monster grabbing an object, the worgen circled their prey. Aria jumped from the back of Luscious and, in a flash of gold, her sword found its way firmly into her hand. The man she had been searching for, that had been living in her nightmares since the day he had killed her parents, was only a few feet from her now. Her heart beat fiercely, and adrenaline pushed the coldness from her body until she burned from head to toe with a fire born of vengeance.
The worgen growled at him, their hackles raised and their teeth bared. But the demonic creature that stood at the edge of a shimmering dome, was ready for them. Where his wings had been wrapped around his body to stave off the cold, they suddenly opened to full width, revealing a silver sword that gleamed in the bright light behind him. Aria would have thought he looked like a celestial being if she hadn't seen his acts of brutality for herself. 'How deceiving looks can be,' she thought.
With one mighty leap, Aria bounded over the last boulder of ice and landed squarely in front of her quarry.
"I hope you and your wicked father are on good terms, winged man, because you are about to meet him face to face," she hissed.
Without waiting for an answer, she swung her sword wildly, forgetting everything that Edwel had ever taught her. All she could see, all she could focus on, was the vision of his black blood spilling, unreservedly, over the pure white snow beneath him.
"My name is Aramus, and I do not know my father," he replied, blocking the riotous swings, some of which came precariously close to his head. "But I do know you, Queen Aria."
The thought of this murderer affiliating any part of her to him was enough to make Aria's stomach churn. She knew, being outnumbered as he was, that he was trying to manipulate her, searching for the smallest window of escape by distracting her with talk. But he would find no such opportunity from her, of that she was determined.
Aria thrust her sword toward his stomach and chest, but each time his sword would block her attacks and a resounding twang would sound out her failure. The more she heard it, the more it angered her and the wilder her swings became. Soon the mountaintop rang out with the sounds of metal on metal, like the isolated bell of a chapel in the wilderness.
"I remember you," Aramus said.
Aria could see him breathing heavier with the effort of fending off her attacks. Small beads of sweat clung to his forehead, and his slatted amber eyes followed her sword closely, not straying to watch where he was going.
"I remember you from a time when I was lost and afraid."
Aramus's foot caught a lump of ice and he fell backward. Aria seized it as an opportunity to strike and, more quickly than lightning, she swung her blade downwards. Aramus rolled onto his side and her sword met with solid ice. She made to decapitate him as he stood, but he was too quick. He ducked and before she had a chance to bring her sword around again, he pushed her roughly away from him.
Aria stumbled sideways, but she didn't fall. Now back on his feet again, Aramus was in clear distress. His breathing wasn't just heavy, it was laboured, and Aria smiled. For years she had been preparing to battle the "Winged Man", whose legend had struck fear into the hearts of children and men alike. But now, as she saw his strength wain from the attacks of a seventeen-year-old girl, she was somewhat disappointed that killing him was going to be so easy.
Aria thrust her sword toward his chest again. This time he didn't have the strength to react quickly enough. Instead of using his sword, he turned sideways and her blade missed its fatal mark. But she did manage to slice some of his black leather tunic from his shoulder instead and cut into his flesh.
Aramus cried out in pain, knocking her blade away with his before grabbing his shoulder. To her delight, Aria saw trickles of black blood ooze between his fingers and drip onto the snow as he stumbled backward. Standing at the edge of the sheer mountain cliff, and looking weaker than ever, he tried to fly away. But his wings flapped futilely in the thin mountaintop air.
"It seems that where birds cannot fly, neither can the mighty Aramus," she laughed.
"I am sorry," he said in a whisper that oozed regret.
His words caught Aria off-guard.
"What do you mean, you're sorry?" she demanded of him.
Aramus, still clinging to his injured shoulder, dropped his sword to the ground in surrender and fell to his knees. His powerful chest rose and fell with more than just exhaustion. If Aria didn't know any better she could have sworn he was about to be overcome with emotion.
"I know the pain and hurt that I have caused you, that I have caused the kingdom," he began. "At the time, I believed that there was no hope for me, that everyone wanted to see me dead for no reason. I had been hunted and vilified all of my life, but that's no excuse. But when your parents, the king and queen, freed me from the prison they put me in, I seized the opportunity to escape at the cost of their lives. My life up until then, made me feel as though I couldn't trust them. I convinced myself that I had no choice but to do what I did. And for that, I am truly sorry."
"You LIE!" Aria shouted, holding the point of her sword under his chin so he had lift his head and look at her. "Do not besmirch my parent's name. They did not hold you captive. I was there, behind a tapestry in the throne room. I heard what they said to you. They wanted to help you, and you repaid their kindness by decapitating them."
"Enough talk," Luscious growled.
"Your parents had captured me and held me captive for more than six months before they decided to be benevolent," Aramus said, ignoring Luscious and wincing as Aria's sword pricked his skin. "Do you know how the guards treat prisoners in the king's keep? Well, now imagine what they did to the son of an evil God. I was alone." Aramus's voice became quite. "Because of my own childish petulance, and some ridiculous argument, I was separated from the only person in this world who didn't want to kill me.
"When I was brought before your parents, I didn't truly believe that they wanted to help me. I feared for my life, and my desperation took over my senses making me commit that terrible crime. And for that, I apologise without reserve, or any expectation of forgiveness."
"You stole their eyes," Aria seethed, taking a step closer to Aramus, running her blade along his neck until he gasped with pain. "What kind of monster takes someone's eyes?"
Aria studied her enemies face carefully. His black eyebrows furrowed together and his mouth opened slightly. A look of utter confusion crossed his face.
"I? I never took their eyes," he said, shaking his head slightly. "What use would it be to take their eyes?"
"Liar!" Aria shouted. "The guards told me what they had discovered after I ran to alert them. They told me that their eyes were missing. You were the only one in the throne room when I left, and now I am going to slay you with the very same sword that you used to kill my parents, my father's sword."
"But you weren't there. You ran off before you saw who took them, am I right?"
"How could I stay after seeing their heads' fall to the floor?" Aria said, her voice more uneven then she had intended.
It was something that Aria had regretted all of her life. The horror of what she saw, only haunted her slightly less than her cowardliness at running away when her parents needed her the most. It was a quality she vowed would never surface again.
"I am guilty of a lot of things and I admit to them with remorse, just as I admit to killing your parents. But if I would confess to murder, why would I deny a lesser part of my crime? I have been accused of a lot of ridiculous things; hiding the sun, creating plagues, turning sheep black. I will gladly atone for my crimes, but only the ones I am guilty of," Aramus said defiantly.
He dropped the hand that was holding his wounded shoulder and held both his arms out wide. Aria could see a shake in his fingers as he knelt on the hard ice, waiting for her to kil
l him.
"Maybe the world is right," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "Maybe you would all be better off without me. If that's the case, then maybe it's only fair that my life should be taken by the hand of one of my victims? and I forgive you for it."
'Forgive me! Forgive me? What does he mean forgive me?' Aria thought angrily. 'I'm the one who should be forgiving him, not the other way around. How dare he!' Aria clenched her teeth together and raised her sword above her head with two hands. Aramus closed his eyes and, for a moment, Aria was struck by the fact that he looked almost normal. Were it not for the two large wings protruding from his back, he could have been any other citizen in Naretia.
Aria hesitated. 'Why would he forgive me?' she thought, feeling the anger inside of her begin to subside. 'Do I need forgiveness? Was Luscious right? Are the atrocities that I committed, worse than what this man has done?'
"What are you waiting for?" Luscious roared from the line of worgen. "Kill him!"
Before Aria had the chance to act, Luscious broke ranks and bounded forward. With a savage snarl he dug his sharp teeth firmly into Aramus's injured shoulder, and shook him viciously. Aramus cried out in pain, but he didn't fight back. He didn't punch, kick, or try to run away from Luscious at all.
"STOP!" Aria cried out, kicking the worgen squarely in his muzzle.
Luscious howled and released his grip on Aramus, who crumpled to the ground. The worgen turned to snarl at Aria and she noticed one of his large canine teeth was missing; still stuck in Aramus's shoulder, no doubt.
"I am the queen of Naretia, worgen. It is my responsibility to see to it that this man dies, not yours," she shouted. Luscious reluctantly bowed, melting back into the line of worgen, and Aria turned to face Aramus again. "I will not allow a murderer to walk free in my land, regardless of his repentance. Judgment day will come to each of us, Aramus, and I can only pray that when mine comes, it will be as quick as yours."
It felt wrong to say his name aloud, like it was the most vile curse word known to man. Aramus staggered to his feet again and ignored the black blood spilling from his shoulder. Further weakened by Luscious's vicious attack, his unsteadiness made him waver from side to side. Eventually, though, he became stable enough to look Aria in the eye.
"I understand," he said, holding out his arms again.
Taking a step toward him she placed the tip of her sword in the centre of his powerful chest and steadied both of her hands on the end of the hilt, ready to drive it in. Aramus closed his eyes and swallowed deeply.
"Nooo!"
The voice of an old man echoed in the mountain air. Aria had only enough time to turn and see that the shimmering dome was no more, before the old wizard standing on the plateau raised his staff and brought it down hard on the ground. A shockwave of rock, ice, and frigid air, came rushing toward them. Aria, and her platoon of worgen, were sent flying backward. The force of it, tumbling them over large boulders of ice. Her scrambling hands barely found a large shard of ice to cling to as her legs dangled over the edge of a sheer drop. At the same moment, she watched Aramus being blown off the mountain side; his limp body plummeting toward his rocky doom.